


I'll be your unknown if you'll be mine

by JJLives



Category: RWBY
Genre: Battle Scenes, Death, Dragon AU, F/F, Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:29:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26024236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JJLives/pseuds/JJLives
Summary: Life isn't what Blake imagined, she's found out that the world is full of danger and darkness so when she finally lays eyes on something as brilliant and beautiful as a dragon she cannot trust what her senses are telling her. It must be dangerous as well. The burning dismembered bodies stacking up around them will attest to that.
Relationships: Blake Belladonna/Yang Xiao Long
Comments: 28
Kudos: 79





	I'll be your unknown if you'll be mine

**Author's Note:**

> This was from a prompt I saw on Tumblr forever ago about a dragon turning into a human as a knight was about to make the final strike... I challenged herwhiteknight (technicallyblakebelladonna) to a writing contest of the prompt. I think it got away from both of us but she still has to finish hers... even though mine, this one has been ready for MONTHS. So everyone should go bug her for her submission... i mean in a kind way haha. 
> 
> Hope you all like it!

People fear the unknown, but it’s a stupid kind of fear. Most of the time danger doesn’t come in the form of the unknown at all. More often than not, it comes from the  _ known _ . 

What you know is that men are cruel, it’s what you’ve been taught all your life. Don’t talk to strangers. Be careful of lingering eyes. Stay out of the alleys and skirt the pubs after dark. Danger isn't invisible, it's  _ tangible _ . It can bruise and cut your physical body or it can seep into your very heart, formed by the words and actions of others. It comes in the shape of fists so strong they knock the very breath from your lungs, deceitful smiles that weave promises of brighter futures only to be torn away with mocking laughter at your expense, of creatures in the forest -not shadow monsters, but real ones made of flesh and blood, teeth and claws. It comes from hatred and fear. And if you’ve learned anything in your twenty-five years on this earth it’s these things feed off each other. 

People fear what they hate and hate what they fear. But no one fears anything more than the unfamiliar. Strangers, inherently mistrusted. Dusk shadows that must hide daggers within their unseen shallows. You have a theory of the dark, of how people’s nightmares occur in the middle of the night. How waking from a dream so terrifying you scramble to breath only to find yourself blind and suffocating in the absolute heaviness of the darkness surrounding you. It only allows that fear to seep in further. What people can’t see, must hold the terrifying.

Though fearing the unknown made little sense to you, having walked through the shadowed veil of the forest at night and survived. It didn’t hide anything more than what was seen in the light of day. But you’ve made a living preying on the stupidity of others fears, taking money for dispatching their imagined demons. Their fears are how you're able to survive. So why not embrace it. 

So you decide to embrace the way they fear you too; your silence, how you stick to the shadows, the very way you avoid any unnecessary contact with others. You are everything they’ve become accustomed to avoid. Maybe it’s because they can’t really see you, not the real you. You’re just a stranger, in every town you bed down in. A darkness about you that reminds them of the inky depths of their nightmares. You’re a mystery to them and you prefer that, to be unknown, feared, and even hated. The alternative was to be known, seen, mocked and taken advantage of... hurt. No, you much prefer to stay a mystery. It’s easy since there’s no one left on earth that knows you, -the real you- anymore.

You aren’t sure how you end up agreeing to work with others. Maybe it’s because this job was so much more than the usual man-eating monsters (that turned out to be common wolves more often than not) that you usually dispatched. You’d never seen a dragon before and you still half believe it’s going to turn out to be some kind of overgrown bird, but the others speak in whispers and tell stories of their own run-ins with them. 

You’re all hired with the same goal in mind, but you hate the looks the men give you. How they size you up in a split second.  _ ‘You’ll be the bait I suppose _ ’ and  _ ‘a girl’s too small to be of any use in a fight. _ ’ One guy’s crushed nose and another’s nearly broken knee is what it takes for them to stop gawking at you like a piece of meat. You’d promised to never let anyone look at you that way again, and they’d learned the price of underestimating you. Even now, the one man limps as he carries supplies to tuck into the saddlebags hanging off his chestnut mount. He deserved it. He feels eyes on him and looks up, only to return your contemptuous glare with an equal one of his own.

You finish paying for your own supplies, a few hardened rolls of bread and some dried meat. The single apple you carry will be payment of a different kind. 

“Hey,” your softened voice sounds foreign to your ears, being used to the gruff tone you use with others. “I got you an apple for afterwards.” Reaching up, you brush the coarse black forelock aside to trace the blood-red swirl pattern between JT’s soft eyes. He sighs, content as his tail swishes, lightly brushing your back as he fends off flies the waning night has dredged up. He was called something else, before you’d purchased him from a farmer in some town you can’t remember the name of over two years ago, but you’d never named any of your others and refused to memorize what his once was. You never meant to name him but your ‘Just Today’ mount seemed determined to keep you company unlike any of his predecessors. 

He grabs for the shiny red treat in your hand. “Stop that,” you reprimand, pulling it out of his reach. He tries again and his shoulder knocks you slightly off balance and you end up dropping the fruit to the dirt, watching it roll further into the dusty worn path that is the market. “Now look what you've done. I’m not buying you another.” 

Not wanting to disappoint your only companion you take a step to collect the newly bruised item but someone bends to grab it before you’re able to cross the small distance. She rises and holds the apple out to you. The first thing you notice is her hair; it’s wild, a golden fury. Murky dawn light dulls everything around you, but her hair almost glows like a lantern placed in a darkened room. The flames trace her face and lick teasingly against her neck and collar before sweeping down around her shoulders. For a moment you wonder how she stands there so calmly as she burns, but then her lilting laugh reminds you she’s just a girl. 

She’s taller than you, not by a great deal but enough for you to tilt your chin a fraction. Her lilac eyes dance as you finally meet them. It’s a playful kind of look, one that requests answers to questions you’ve yet to be asked. The feeling you’re being seen strikes you. For the first time in years someone is looking at you like you’re  _ known _ , but you’re sure you’ve never laid eyes on her before. You would have remembered that.

“I think your horse is getting impatient for his treat.” Her voice is teasing and she takes a half-step to close the gap between you. JT starts pawing, his new shoes making a dull thud on the hardened ground behind you. Her eyes are torn from yours as she looks over her shoulder, recollection crossing her delicate features. Her smile falls and eyes fade as she turns back to you. “Here,” she says quickly, grabbing your wrist she places the apple in your palm, releasing you as soon as you close your fingers around the smooth orb. 

“Thanks,” you voice: lame in your own ears. The small smile that your appreciation brings is nothing like the wide, warm one she’d given you at first, but you realize you’re grateful for it nonetheless. 

Turning from you, the girl grabs a heavy looking sack-covered frame. She hoists it onto her back with an ease that seems almost inhuman, before taking off at a steady jog. She disappears a second later as she turns off the lane. You feel oddly disappointed at the interaction and when you explore the foreign feeling you realize it’s because you don’t know her name. Regret at not asking for it washes away as soon as you realize that’s all too...  _ familiar  _ feeling, and you’re not supposed to be familiar with anyone. But your skin burns where she's touched you, as if her entire body were made of flames and not just her wild mane.

You step back, spine leaning into JT’s shoulder as a couple horses canter past you. Looking up you recognize one of the men in your makeshift band of mercenaries. You realize it’s time to leave. The distance you need to cover is vast, which is the reason for such an early departure in the first place. Stuffing the supplies you still carry into JT’s saddlebags you quickly throw your leg over his hind quarters and guide him in the direction of the others. One of JT’s ears is pinned along his neck, listening. You make a quiet kissing sound with your lips and he springs into an easy canter. 

You’re experienced in travelling long distances but the pace with which the others, or the two that lead the group, set is exhausting for both you and JT. The men don’t care how their horses coats lather saponaceous with salted sweat and dirt, or how their sides heave and hooves falter over the uneven terrain. The sun treks high in the sky before you come to a stream and are allowed to slow, filling canteens and allowing the horses a chance to wet their dry mouths. You know better than most of the others, only allowing JT a few precious gulps of the cold liquid before pulling his head up. You grab a cloth from inside your pack and rub down the majority of sweat along JT’s neck and flanks, allowing his skin to breath. You give him one more quick sip before hopping back in the saddle and following the team again. They seem in more of a hurry than before.

Within two hours, three of the men’s horses collapse either with exhaustion or colic, maybe a combination of both. This job isn’t for the soft hearted, the money is to be split by those that complete it. If you can’t keep up you get left behind, but you pity the animals heaving great breaths as you and JT jog past them. They didn't ask for this life, nor did they deserve the ignorant, uncaring men that drove them to this precipice.

It’s hitting dusk when you finally make it to a small farming community. Really it’s a clump of four houses and a couple barns with silos. A man comes out of the largest house when your group rides in, hearing the drumming of hoofbeats enter the yard. You watch as the man speaks with your unofficial leader, see the farmer point to the southeast. You can see it in his eyes, the way his hand shakes as he motions to one of the barns further down. More than anything though, you can smell it, seeping from his very pores, a strange mix of salt and copper. Like he bleeds it, this fear, this terror. 

It's in this instant, before a farmer's half quivering form with daughters clutching each other in support on the porch steps behind him that you start to believe. Dragons might just be real. Maybe people's fears of the unknown aren't so unwarranted after all because before today you would have bet everything you owned, even your own life, that such a fantastical demon could not exist.

Your group is gifted stalls, feed and water for your horses and a loft with clean straw for you all to rest. The giant of a man that's pushed you so hard all day tells you all to be ready to depart in a few short hours. You spend half of it keeping a watchful eye on JT. Brushing out the dried sweat crusting his fur and digging out the mud from his hooves. You press the back of your hand to his flanks and chest, only giving him feed and water once he's cooled. You don't care how well this job pays, you won't risk JT colicking like the others. 

You retire to the loft once you know JT's taken care of. You're the last one up and you quickly find a spot along the far wall to set your things down. Leaning your head against the seat of your saddle as a pillow you fall asleep easier than you would have imagined being able to in a room full of distrustful men.

\--

A boot shoved sharply into your hip wakes you and you jump into a low crouch, eyes scanning the darkness for danger. 

"Time to go," a groaning voice speaks as the man kicks the next body sprawled across the loft. 

You rise, brushing the straw from your hair and clothing before grabbing your tack and supplies and carrying them down the narrow, creaking stairs to the stalls below. JT looks just as impressed as you feel at the sudden waking. You scratch behind his ear and coo to him until he drops his head, allowing you to slip the bridle easily over his ears. 

"At least I didn't kick you to wake you." Seeing his water trough empty, you lead him to a larger one outside once he's tacked up. You allow him to drink his fill, but he only sucks up a few gulps before raising his head. 

The pace is slower in the dark and you notice you're another man down. You assume he's either come to his senses, or his horse took ill during the small reprieve. The latter is more likely. Still you make good time and when the sun starts to rise you've come to a small village. 

No one has seen anything resembling a dragon though. 

You press on, to the southeast, as it’s the only direction the group has to work with. There are no more villages or farmsteads after that, just wilderness. Trees grow taller, thicker, showing their age as your group comes to the base of the mountains. The men seem to think this would be the perfect environment for a dragon to hide. You wouldn’t know, having never come across one before. There are few, if any, people around so it’s secluded enough you suppose.

Late in the afternoon something changes. The air around you seems to shift and an unfamiliar scent catches your attention. Your ears swivel, but you hear nothing. The man riding behind you notices how you straighten in the saddle. “You hear something faunus?” His voice harsh as he speeds his horse to come up beside you. His eyes take in the canopied shadows.

“No, but something’s off.” You don’t want to draw more attention to what makes you different from them. You're unable to keep your feline ears atop your head hidden, and you wouldn’t want to cover them on the job, they could be the difference between making it out alive or not at all, but they don’t need to know your eyes and nose are more powerful than theirs. Being different can come in handy but it also means they have an unspoken camaraderie that you can’t be a part of, and the more differences that separate you from them the greater chance of them throwing you to the wolves, or dragon in this case.

The team spreads out, all on edge from your words. It’s not long after that you come to an opening in the trees, where the wind blows more strongly. It brings the same scent, thicker this time. It’s not unpleasant. You’ve always hated the smell of wolves, you attribute that to your cat-like traits more than anything, but this smell doesn’t repulse you. It’s a mixture of campfire and wildflowers and freshly turned soil, mixed with something you can’t quite name. 

JT sidesteps abruptly and you’re quick to catch your balance and look to the ground. He wouldn’t have made such a maneuver unless he needed to. You stare in shock at the earth, at the deep gouges of uneven soil -claw marks, the length of JT or longer. You search further and find three other similar markings spaced out in a rough rectangle. Six of your horses could stand within their boundary with ease. Letting out a long whistle you signal the other men. A couple look excited at finally finding evidence you're on the right trail, but most are grim realizing how massive the creature you hunt really is. 

They decide to split up to find more tracks and it’s easy for your eyes to find where the meadow grasses have been shifted, forced to bend in a way no wind could replicate. You follow the trail, finding more prints, though these aren’t dug so deeply into the ground. You imagine the first set you found must have been where the beast landed. 

A twig snaps to your right and your eyes examine the trees, looking for its cause. An eternity passes before something massive shifts just within the treeline. Glowing violet wisps flicker from the darkness, the odd coloured flames burn like embers before you realize they’re a pair of eyes glaring at you from the shadows. 

It darts from the trees when sensing your recognition where it can unfurl its wings and raise to its full height. Four solid limbs as thick as tree trunks, each end in a set of sharpened deadly daggers digging into the ground, ripping up clumps of grass. It stands taller than four grown men at the crest of its spine but unfurled wings double its height. Scales cover the dragon’s body, shades changing iridescently from a deep rust to a yellow so vibrant it’s almost white. Shifting its weight the muscles ripple and its armour undulates like a river of magma. The leather webbing between the bones of its wings is a deep shade of plum and they cast a shadow over you as they blot out the sun, darker than the forest’s canopy. It’s tail twitches serpentine along the ground, the tip of which has a dorsal protrusion like a mini version of its wings. It reminds you of the fletching of an arrow. 

A man yells from across the clearing to gain the attention of the other mercenaries. He needn’t have wasted his breath because before his call dies out the giant opens its maw letting out a cry so loud it vibrates through your bones. The row of teeth are pearly white and razor sharp and you can feel the heat of its breath on your face. It could swallow you in a single bite. The horns on its head curl back in a protective manner against its neck where the scales are smallest. The sound fades and jaw snaps shut. The large head turns to watch the men rush from all directions but it stares at you with one burning purple ember of an eye. 

JT prances in his fear but his experience forces him to stand his ground. His head tosses in his unease and you play with the reins half-heartedly to settle him, your own nerves fried. An arrow bounces off the dragon’s shoulder, not strong enough to even leave a scratch on its scale. The men swarm around it and the dragon finally tears its eye from you, realizing you’re the least of its worries. Freed from your trance you squeeze your calves into JT’s ribs and he springs to the side, taking up a spot in the circle the others have started to form. 

One man lunges for its flank and a bronze tail swings, knocking the man from his horse. Courage lost without its rider to guide it, the buckskin shoots off into the trees. The man rolls back and jumps to his feet, sword raised, but the dragon ignores him and lunges at another horse, teeth bared. It disobeys the rider, pivoting on its hind end it shoots off in the opposite direction. Its rider’s just able to catch himself before falling to the dirt. Before the beast can retract its long neck the man to your left takes the opening to rush forward. His sword comes down hard on the dragon’s neck, bouncing off the tip of a horn. The massive head spins to meet him but it gives the sword access to the softer scales behind its jawline. The horn absorbed most of the strength behind the swing so the blade doesn’t dig into the flesh as it should, but it cuts deep enough to draw blood. The beast hisses like a great cat and spins on him. JT does falter this time -you have to pull up sharply on the reins and kick him hard with your heel to snap him out of his fear- as the dragon’s jaw opens and instead of a bellowed roar a sound louder than the strongest wind deafens you. Heat singes your hair and the next moment horse and rider fall to the ground still burning beside you. The stench is nauseating and you have to swallow down the bile that threatens to come up. 

Everyone reins in their mounts to increase the distance between them and the fiery threat. You’ve never believed in magic. You’ve never believed in dragons before, but to see it breathe fire as easily as you fill your own lungs unnerves you. It unnerves you all. Taking your shock to its advantage it lunges at the only archer in your band, who is in no state to react with his eyes still glued to the smouldering corpses, bow held limply at his side. Teeth graze his horse’s neck opening long deep gashes. The mare spins, trying to get away as the dragon rips its rider from the saddle. It only gets a dozen strides before falling to the ground, drowning in its own blood. Her rider fares about the same; his screams echo as the dragon shakes its massive head, ripping its prey nearly in half. 

Your leader snaps out of it first, taking the beast's distraction to his advantage. He kicks his black horse forward and rides the length of the dragon’s side. He lifts his sword and cuts clean through the webbing of a wing . You’re both horrified and impressed at his action. It’ll make it hard for the dragon to escape if it wishes to, but he’s just made this battle one to the death, for all of you. 

Dropping the dead man from its mouth the dragon turns to confront him but his horse is fast and now out of reach. You can only assume the fire in its throat needs time to gather fuel with the way the dragon glares at each of the men but does not set them ablaze. The action brings the rest of you out of your own trances and an onslaught of charging, slashing and screaming begins. Several blades find their marks and with each injury the beast becomes more enraged, but also more sluggish. Another three horses are downed and only JT and the leader’s black stallion are still standing. You can hear two of your comrades wailing as their injuries slowly ebb the life from them but you can’t spare them an ounce of your attention. The dragon focuses more on the leader than any of the rest of you, but you know if your focus wanes it won’t hesitate to seize the opportunity to take you out as it has the others. 

It spins again placing you at its flank, opening its jaw toward your mounted leader and the sound of rushing wind reaches your ears. Knowing exactly what it means you kick JT hard and he jumps over the dragon’s tail as you sink your blade into the beast’s thigh, both feeling and hearing the flesh along the blade’s edge rip. The dragon’s fire extinguishes before it’s able to build enough force and you acknowledge your leader’s grateful look as you pass him before wheeling around to assess the situation. The dragon moves, positioning itself so the trees are at its back and it can see the remaining four of you with ease. You can see it struggles to maneuver its hind end, your wound must be deep. Its violet eyes find you, as if scrutinizing you in a new light. So far it’s pretty much ignored you, even if you are one of the only two still mounted. Smoke billows from its nostrils as it huffs. The injured wing stretches then retracts, tucked safely at its side. Each of you are assessed and you can practically see the intelligence behind the glare it’s giving you, the wheels turn. 

You notice the injured men have quieted, most likely succumbing to their wounds. It’s uncaring, but you’re glad for the silence. Your ears perk atop your head, hearing better now that their screams and moans have died. The giant heart beating beneath a layer of hardened scales is erratic and laboured. Its breathing is harsh and staggered, and you can hear its tail move along the grass behind it. You’re surprised with the almost musical chiming that comes from scales rubbing together, kind of like a cricket’s chirp, but more melodic. It might have been a calming sound if not for the fact it was coming from a monster that could kill you so easily. The leather covering your frame is poor protection against teeth and claws this large, but you see how the others that wore heavier raiment have fallen long ago. Speed is what’s saved you and the three men still standing, not strength or thick armour.

For a few moments all five stare, catching breaths, and you wonder how long this battle has lasted; it feels an infinite amount of time has passed since its eyes first came to rest on you from the treeline. 

It lunges at the black stallion but retreats before it reaches the animal that’s stood its ground. It’s testing you. A roar stronger than its first is directed at one of the men standing on shaky legs. He falters and dodges to the side thinking a trail of fire is following. The sound would have fooled you had it not been for the missing cadence of whirling air. The noise does have you questioning the strength remaining in its body though. Bleeding and mutilated as it is, to have the strength for such aggressive displays is terrifying. Your own arm aches with the weight of your blade. JT’s soaked from poll to croup and his ribs expand in sharp, heaving breaths. You don’t know how much longer any of you can last. 

The sudden charge takes you all by surprise; this time it doesn’t retreat. It snaps its jaw at one standing man as it brings a sharpened claw down on the other -you hear the gurgle of blood entering his lungs before he’s crushed under the full weight of the dragon. Your leader moves to attack but the dragon opens its wings fully for the first time since the one’s been damaged. The movement hits his stallion in the side and pushes him off balance, both horse and rider are toppled. But the beast doesn’t stop, it continues charging into the meadow, wings still unfurled and all three of you realize what that means. Reflex is what spurs you and soon JT’s galloping across the field. He’s faster than the injured dragon on the ground, but if it manages to get airborne there’s no way you’d keep up through the tangled underbrush of the forest.

You rein JT in as you pass the charging behemoth, cutting it off. You realize your error. This isn’t some wolf JT can trample if it gets too close and there’s no one near enough to distract the beast’s attention. For a split second you resign yourself to your fate, regret stronger for JT whose unwavering trust in you is also his undoing. 

Instead of crushing you like the body still warm in the grass on the other side of the meadow, the dragon lifts its head, surprised to find you so quick to take over the path. Claws dig into the dirt and a tail flicks to the side as it turns from you. The injured flank crumples under the strain and it stumbles. You think it’s finally going down but somehow catches itself with a great effort and unfurls its wings once again. Blood coats the tear in one, but both flap as the behemoth pushes off the ground with three good legs. It falls but wings are forced down harder and it pushes off again, this time using whatever strength remains in its injured hind leg and hovers ten feet above the ground before doubling the speed in its flapping appendages. The effort is enough to bring the giant body over the top of the trees where a strong wind sweeps under its wings and lifts it another fifty feet in the air. The dragon is gone, soaring unsteadily over the forest and out of sight before any of you can think of a way to stop it.

Mounted again, the large man and his stallion come up beside you. Enraged at the dragon’s escape is an understatement. He yells to the only other remaining man to go find the buckskin horse that escaped at the beginning of the encounter. There’s no way he’ll be able to keep up on foot. He tells you both to split up in the general direction it has escaped, all knowing it won’t fly long in a straight line. It’ll be trying to get off the trail to heal. With only three left you’re unsure if you’ll be able to survive once cornering it again. But it’s injured where you’re just tired, and the slower pace of tracking might replenish your reserves where the beast will have no such reprieve. 

Wasting no time you take to the forest, splitting up not long after. You guide JT in a criss cross pattern for over an hour before the scent of blood fills your nose, following it you see droplets falling from the leaves above. You track the bloodied trail as best you can, sometimes spending a great deal of time finding the next clue. There’s a point where it turns abruptly and you spend nearly two hours backtracking, looking for the direction it’s turned before finding another patch. Trudging forward the sun continues to lower in the western sky.

The trail leads you up the base of one mountain where the terrain is harder to maneuver and it forces JT to slow. A stream crosses your path as it flows down the mountainside and you realize how dry your throat has become. A short break is all that can be afforded with the waning day but both you and JT take a drink from the cool waters and because you know neither of you has eaten since the barn you left so many hours ago you allow JT to nibble on the grass around the bank’s edge as you chew on a rough piece of dried meat. It has little taste but you know it’ll give you strength for the coming battle. 

The decision of never taking another job where a dragon is involved is easy. No matter the coin it will garner, this is not a job you want to repeat. Thinking of how easily it could have been you to be any of the others, left to rot where they’ve fallen. No, you’d rather spend weeks hunting bears and wolves and giant cats than one more ferocious being like the dragon you’re now tracking.

Not far from the creek you notice how the tops of the trees are damaged, branches broken, some of their tips hang limply against the trees next to them. Something has brushed the tops with great force. It’s a canyon in the canopy above, but the damage doesn’t deepen and disappears after twenty yards. Realizing for the first time the wind has died now that the mountain blocks its path. It must have struggled to stay aloft, the damage proves this. It would have had to change directions or find somewhere to land. 

Picturing the gash in its wing you‘re surprised again at the sheer strength the beast has shown. This is a great deal further than you thought it would be able to fly with such injuries, especially bleeding as it has been. 

You come to a small opening in the trees and dig a hole into the earth. Finding just enough rocks to form a circle around the pit, you build a fire using as much dampened material as you can find without worrying it will tamp the fire; it needs to burn long enough for the others to find. White smoke snakes a trail high in the evening sky. Knowing another signal fire can be made if the dragon surprises you again and travels further than you think it able, at least backup will know which direction to come. You don’t trust their human senses to pick up the trail as you have. 

The path you’re using shrinks to a mere path meant for mountain goats not horses but JT’s steps are sure and he doesn’t stumble even once. You give him an encouraging pat on the neck and he snorts his appreciation. He deserves a good rest after all this is over. You’d retire him but know you’d miss him too damn much; he’s been keeping you sane the past two years and without him you’re sure all of your humanity would have been long gone. 

Rounding a corner in the path you notice it takes you precariously close to a ledge. Hopping from the saddle you tie the reins to a branch and carefully make your way across, testing the edge with your boot in a few spots. You know JT can make it, as long as there aren’t any loose areas along the dangerous drop. You’re satisfied with the path but curiosity gets the better of you. JT’s whinnied call echoes off the open space as you continue around a bend, out of his sight. 

The space the path leads opens up but seems to be a dead end. Where goats might be able to climb the craggy cliffs you know JT could not. There’s a pool in the middle of the area, fed by a small trickle of water coming down the mountain further up. The liquid flows down the rock wall and drops the thirty feet from a cliff’s edge into the pool. It’s then that you notice a cave behind the small waterfall. The hair at the back of your neck stands at attention as the familiar smell of blood once again overtakes you. It’s muted but recognizable. The cave does look like the ideal place for a hideout. It might even be the dragon’s den. You wonder if dragon’s have dens, or if they’re wanderers like elk, constantly on the move.

You question if you should wait for your two other comrades but know they could be hours behind and might not even find you until morning. It would be an impossible task for them to pick the trail out at night even if your fire lasts long enough to lead them that far. You step forward, noticing how your sight shifts. The sun has set and your night vision is taking over, the moon is bright as it starts to rise and you’re grateful for its help. You pray that dragons cannot see in the dark but you know it’s a foolish wish. For a killing beast, the predator will have just as good night vision as you, if not better. The pool ripples with the force of the waterfall, but something else catches your eye, darkened swirls curl and run within its depths. You take another half-dozen strides closer to examine the phenomenon. A strong wind alters the waterfall and the pool currents shift in a different way, the smoky wisps disperse long enough for the moon’s glow to illuminate a glimmer of gold. 

Movement, having nothing to do with the water’s flow brings the dragon’s horned head above the surface. The eyes that once burned are now a quiet smoulder of lilac. The dagger shape of its pupils, more catlike than your own, are contracted into slivers. You pull your blade from the loop on your belt and the beast eyes you further, following your movement. It’s then that you sense it, the fear -not your own. It’s fearful, more than that you realize as its eyes shift frantically. It’s terrified of you. It must have incurred further damage on the flight here to be scared of you, who is dwarfed by its size. You wouldn't be surprised with how the row of trees were crushed not far from your signal fire.

You take another step forward, knowing the water will slow its movement, to assess how it’s body is folded in the pool. Entering the water is not an option as it will give the beast an advantage so you’re careful not to step near the slippery rocks at the pool’s edge. Suddenly a tremor overtakes its entire body, frothing the surface of the pool. The motion terrifies you in its unfamiliarity and you take a step back. The beast struggles to stand but manages and bounds clumsily into the cave on three legs, the injured one from your blade dragging almost useless behind it. 

You again think to leave it in the cave as you wait for the two men who must be on their way, but if there’s another exit the dragon could get another day’s journey ahead and you’re aware neither you nor JT will not last another day at this pace. The knowledge has you moving to the mouth of the cavern. Careful to soften your steps, you enter into the belly of the cave.

A roar starts off low and grumbles but soon grows in strength. It shakes the loose stones on the shale floor, the walls reverberate in its undertones. You step toward a gap in the wall, to what must be another cavern beyond. The noise shifts, raising several octaves. A women's blood-curdling scream reaches your sensitive ears, only strengthened by the echos hitting you in every direction. It pierces your eardrums and stops your heart -agony, fear, and dread seep through your pores at the sound. It turns your blood, cold. You move forward, against your instincts. 

No giant beast greets you as you step into the next cavern. Stalactites and their mates rise from ceiling and floor. High above a natural skylight shines moonlight into the space, not that you need it. There's only a human crouched on all fours. Your eyes sweep the space anyway, just in case there's another cave but you find no further openings. The girl, for she has long hair and is very much unclothed, baring her obvious feminine curves; seems to shine. Even the muted tones you find within your night vision can't hide the red and gold shimmering armour that covers her naked form. 

Fiery scales turn molten, shifting, rippling as a lake after tossing rubble into its calm surface, they smooth and dull into a muted pink. Where scales once covered her body only flesh remains, soft and as pierceable as your own. You watch as blackened horns on her head shrink to bury into her wild mane of golden hair.

Your dagger slips from your grip and clatters to the stone beneath. The sharp ring of metal being struck echoes for a long time after the blade comes to rest. Her screams quiet and eyes find you in the dark; the fearful lilac stare has shifted from feline slits to rounded pupils, but are the same as the ones that peered out at you from the murky depths of the pool outside. 

She tries to stand but topples over with another sharp cry. The salt and copper smell of fear reaches your nose but the thick stench of something more metallic blends with it, so much so you can taste it on your tongue. It's then that you see she's nearly covered in blood. It oozes from many wounds, one on her upper thigh, the exact spot your blade tore through the monster's armour. Your eyes can't help but look to your abandoned weapon, still there are dried rust coloured flakes not quite wiped off from that encounter. 

Her eyes dart from your fallen weapon to your face as she drags her body further from you, until her back presses into the stone on the far wall. You bend to pick up your blade and she flinches, whimpering as she wraps her arms around her knees, drawing them up to her chest. 

Suddenly you're struck with a memory, so long past now you've convinced yourself it was another lifetime, but in this memory you were the one cowering. Did your pupils contract as hers do? Did your entire body shake so hard you could hear your bones rattle? Did he hear your whimpering? Did he see the pleading in your eyes to stop, to make it all end? 

You throw your weapon away in disgust, far across the cavern. You aren't that weak girl anymore but you also refuse to become like him. He would find some sick joy, even from the grave, to witness you stepping into his shoes. You won't give him the satisfaction.

Her head rises at the noise, eyes search you for an answer to your action. You don’t know what to do or what to think. She appears so much like you now, so much more human than you could ever hope to be. But yet you know she’s more than that and so many questions swim through your mind. She’s a dragon, but yet... now she is not. Is she cursed? Does she remember how she burned and tore the men apart? Does she remember their screams? And who gave her that deep gash on her thigh? You don’t need to ask most of your questions aloud though, for you see recognition in her eyes. She remembers you. 

And as you step forward you recognize her too.

“The market.” Your words are coated in disbelief. This girl, this dragon, was the one you’d met in the market only the morning before. The encounter feels more like a dream you had once instead of reality. Her eyes scrutinize before she nods in agreement.

“I didn’t think you one of  _ them _ .” Her voice is raw and you attribute it to her screams, in both forms, but her tone is strong and hateful referring to the mercenaries. 

You step forward and her bravado shatters again, pulling her knees closer. Her hands shake against the skin of her legs. Coming to hover over her she finally drops your gaze. “If you’re going to kill me, please just get it over with.”

Processing the information you realize the thought of fulfilling that action is the last thing you’d be able to do. It threatens the bile in your stomach to surface just as strong as the smell burning flesh had not long ago. Kneeling to seem less threatening, you shuffle to her side. You reach to grab her hands, locked together at her shins. She flinches and strengthens her hold.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” you say softly, the same way you’d calm JT. “I just want to check your wounds.”

“Why?” Distrust seeps from the word and you can’t blame her.

“Does it matter?”

Her eyes find yours before she sucks in a pained breath through gritted teeth and releases her grip, straightening her legs. Out of all the damage her body has taken, your dagger’s tear is the worst. “I’m sorry,” you whisper as your fingers hover over the bleeding wound.

“I’ve had worse.” 

The resignation in her voice surprises you. It tells you all you need to know.  _ ‘It’s happened before and will happen again.’  _ It’s the same tone you used back then. The “ _ I’m fine” _ ’s that used to spill from your mouth when asked about a new bruise or cut, because you knew it didn’t matter what you told others, the fists would still come no matter the elaborate excuses you thought up. It was just your life and nothing would change that. 

But it had changed. You’d changed it and a protective instinct grows inside you at your similarities. Maybe you could change her fate as well.

“Why do you attack people?” You ask because you need to know. Before you risk everything, including your life, you need to know her reasons.

“I don’t.” Firm and resolute, her voice does not waver.

You look at her in disbelief having witnessed her tear a man in two, burn one alive and trample another. She can’t deny she has harmed others. No matter the wounds you are now trying to assess, she has wounded others far more permanently. 

“You killed five men just today.” The steadiness of your tone surprises you, but you’re glad as an accusing tone would not help gain the girl’s trust.

“I didn’t attack, they did.” She winces as you move to prod a deep cut along her shoulder blade. “I didn’t attack anyone that didn’t lay a sword on me first.”

And you’re surprised to find she hadn’t. She’d not attacked you when she emerged from the trees even though she was at full strength and you were alone and easily disposed of. She hadn’t burned the man before he’d left the cut on her face. Even now your eyes find the scratch below her ear that’s almost stopped its bleeding, not being as deep as the rest, but her blonde hair is dyed rust where it brushes the wound. 

“You didn’t attack me, even after… And you could have charged me instead of the others when you escaped. You could have killed both me and JT when we blocked your way -I thought you would- but you avoided us.”

“I didn’t want to hurt you.” Her voice is delicate and a light blush coats her cheeks. It’s more noticeable with how pale she’s become with the blood loss. 

“Wait here.” 

You stand and jog through the cave and around the pool. You slow to cross the cliff ledge to where you’ve left JT. He knickers at your welcomed arrival and shoves his soft muzzle into your chest. Taking a step back at the force you smile at him. “I’m okay. Come on, someone needs our help.” You lead him carefully across the narrow ledge and he doesn’t falter once. Adoration fills you at how dependable of a friend you’ve been lucky enough to find. You scratch his chin where your hand guides him forward. He isn’t pleased at the water that falls over him when you lead him into the cave and is less happy with the way his hooves echo within the cavern, but he follows loyally beside you anyway.

It’s then that you realize you’ve left your dagger in the cavern with the girl and your steps falter. You push JT’s nose to fall further behind you and he does, ears pricking, on alert. You enter the next cavern and eyes instantly dart to where your weapon was discarded. It’s still where you threw it and you breathe a relieved sigh.

She notices your hesitation though and her eyes darken. “You expect me to cut you down?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time someone has taken advantage of my help,” you say bitterly. This is why you stopped having relationships with anyone, besides the four-legged one following you loyally into the dragon’s den.

“That’s fair,” she answers after a time. “Is this JT?”

The excitement in her voice surprises you. “Yes.” You loop the reins over his neck so he doesn’t step on them and search the saddlebags for supplies you will need. Throwing everything beside her feet you kneel to reassess the cut on her thigh. “It needs stitches.”

“No,” she shakes her head. “I don’t want any scars, if I stitched up every wound I’d look like an ogre in this form.”

“The wound will bleed out if we don’t.” Your hand is already laying out the needle and thread you’ve taken from your makeshift medical supply pouch. 

“Fire.” 

“Excuse me?” You think you’ve misheard her.

“Start a fire and use it to close the wound.” Sure she’s kidding you search her face, but she doesn’t look amused. She’s serious.

“You can’t expect… The pain alone might kill you in your condition.” Your eyes plead with her remembering the last time, not long ago, that burning flesh assailed your senses.

“If I die then your mission will be complete. Though me dying in this form will not garner you a trophy for the reward.” She smiles sardonically, pleased with the irony of the situation.

“I suppose it’s a win-win then.” Your aggravated tone wipes the smile from her face. “If you wish to die I’d rather not waste my time trying to heal you.” 

She has the sense to look ashamed. “Sorry, I’m alone a lot so I guess my sense of humour is…”

“Misplaced.” 

“Yeah.” She shifts her body against the hardened ground and winces as the movement pulls at her wounds.

You stand again. “Don’t think of hurting my horse.” She hears the seriousness of your warning and nods her head. You’re quick to gather the wood needed to start the fire. Picking the driest pieces within easy access so they will burn hotter. 

When you enter the cave again JT has moved from the spot you’ve left him. He raises his head from where it was softly nuzzling into the girls neck. Her gentle laughter dies as he pulls away and takes a shamed step back as you glare at him. He knows he wasn’t supposed to move from where you’d left him. Traitor.

You start the fire, it sparks easily under your practiced ministrations. Once it’s strong enough you collect your dagger from across the cavern. As you approach her entire body tenses, the clench of her jaw is so stiff it looks painful. You know your words will have little affect, with how many cuts she’s racked up today you can’t imagine the number of times a dagger or sword has injured her. You can’t blame her for hating the weapons, for fearing them, or anyone who wields them.

Silently you place the tip in the heart of the flames before approaching her, empty handed once more. As the blade heats, you dampen the cleanest cloth you have with water from your canteen. You know it’s not as sanitary as it should be but it’s all you have. You work at cleaning the area around the wounds, exposing the damaged skin beneath the dried blood.

“What’s your name?” Her question causes you to jump, not expecting pleasantries to be voiced.

“Blake.”

Her head dips in a single nod. “Mine is Yang,” she supplies without your prompting. When you don’t reciprocate with any further conversation she continues. “You’re being quite calm about all this.”

“I’ve seen my share of wounds. I’m not a squeamish damsel.” The implication irritates you.

“No, that’s not what I meant.” She’s quick to correct. Her arm reaches out as if stopping your body will halt the thoughts in your mind. Her movement pulls at the cut on her ribs you’re cleaning and she hisses in pain. 

“Be careful, and sit still.” You grab her wrist and place it on her knee where it can rest out of the way. 

“Sorry.”

“It’s you that’s getting hurt not me.” 

She snorts derisively. “I was thinking about the whole me being a dragon thing not bothering you as I would think it would, not the blood thing.”

You remain silent, mulling over her words. You would let it drop but she’s still very much looking at you as if she’s waiting for an answer. “It does.” You twist to kneel at her back and work at cleaning the blood off her shoulder. You feel her tense again at your admission. “Mostly though I just have questions.”

“Like what?” Her voice is reconciled to be open and honest. “You’re helping me so I suppose I owe you some answers to whatever questions you have. Most people would have killed me or ran, you didn’t.”

“Are you forgetting I’m the one that gave you one of your injuries?” You let one single croak of amusement leave your throat, finding the situation odd. Less than an hour ago you were hunting her down to kill her and now here you are trying to heal her enough to ensure she doesn’t die. 

“I haven’t forgotten. But ask what you will and I’ll answer as honestly as I can.”

“Is this a curse?” It’s the only explanation that makes sense to you. You’ve read of beautiful maidens being cursed with monstrous features to curb their vanity or as punishment for one thing of another. You’d thought them all fictitious, but perhaps there is truth in them.

“Curse?” The word is spit out with disgust. “The only curse on me is the hordes of men wanting to kill me because they do not understand the beauty of my race.”

“So…” you pause, taking in her words. “You were born this way, a dragon?”

“Yes.”

“There are others of your kind then.” It’s more of a statement but she nods anyway.

You stand to check on the dagger in the fire, the tip is glowing red and you know what must come next but you don’t like it. 

“Where are the rest of them then? Why are you alone?” Knowing you ask the question to stall, you poke the fire as if to strengthen the heat, pretending the metal is not yet ready.

“Scattered.” Saddened undertones have you scrutinizing her again. “We cannot all be together often. We would be too easy to track. I’m just one and look how easily you found me.”

“I have slight advantages to tracking that humans do not.”

“You’re right, I knew as much as I watched how easily you followed my trail through the meadow.” She shakes her head and a darkened smirk forms at her mouth. “If I were smart I would have taken you out before escaping. Any other of my kind wouldn’t have hesitated. I knew the risk of leaving you alive and still…”

She doesn’t need to finish. And still she let you live. “Well I’m glad you did.”

“Me too,” she whispers.

“Even if it was stupid. The men I travelled with wouldn’t have hesitated to sacrifice me to save themselves. Why should you be any different?”

“I don’t understand why they would.” She sounds genuinely confused.

“Because I’m different from them. Nothing more than a mangy animal to most humans.” You poke at the fire again, shifting the dagger to some colder flames so it does not overheat.

“Different isn’t a bad thing.”

“No one has ever looked at me, seen my ears and thought anything positive. I can guarantee that.”

“I did.” Yang’s eyes widen, she didn’t mean to say that out loud.

“And what did you think then?” Curiosity has always gotten the better of you, even if you know you should stop the conversation and continue with the job she’s tasked you with.

“In the market.” Resigning herself to answer your question as she’s already promised to answer them all honestly. “The first thing I thought when I looked at you was...how beautiful you were and that the way your ears moved was really cute.” She turns from you, playing with a curl of her hair that’s draped over her shoulder. The blush returns to her cheeks. You don’t know how to respond but you feel the heat flush your own skin at her compliments. “The metal is hot enough, let’s get this over with.” 

You should have known better than to pretend to be an expert of fire with a dragon so near. Carrying the dagger to her side you feel sick. You don’t want to hurt her. Your attention must first go to the worst of the wounds, which is the one on her thigh, but the heated blade hovers over the wound and you’re unable to touch it to her flesh. She sees your hesitation and places her own hand over yours on the hilt. She forces your arm down with a strength, that even while injured and weak, is stronger than your own. You know to hesitate now will only prolong her pain so you follow through, letting her place the pressure while you roll the blade along the length of the cut, melting the skin closed. She cries out and you regret not giving her a strip of leather to bite down on.

“Put it back in the fire.” Her voice is strained and tears leak from between her tightly locked lashes but you do as you’re told, placing your dagger back in the flames to heat once more. All you can do is wrap the wound with a damp cloth ripped into something similar to a bandage. Her whimpers at your attention scar you in a way that seems more permanent than her physical ones, and the smell of her burning flesh sickens you more than the other did. 

She leans heavily into the stone at her side when you are finished. Her breathing is more laboured and you realize she’s fighting to stay conscious. 

“I thought you were on fire when I first saw you in that market.” Your admission captures her attention and she opens her eyes to take in your form. It proved a great effort but she’s able to focus on you after blinking a few times. “Your hair was practically glowing and I thought it was made of flames and wondered how it didn’t burn you.”

She laughs weakly, but her shoulders spasm and a soft smile creeps to her lips. “If only you’d known back then, huh?” You chuckle along with her, touching your wrist where she first touched you. You remember how it burned. “How many other wounds do you think need to be closed?” 

You sigh, sounding just as tired as she does. “Three. The one on your shoulder, ribs and the one on your hip. All are still bleeding and you’ve lost too much as it is.” She nods. “But these are going to leave scars too.” You know this because of the way the skin melted, lumps forming on the previously smooth flesh.

“Not if closed with fire. Not for me,” she whispers.

Not sure if you believe it or not you can only shrug. “I guess we’ll have to see how they heal.”

“We?” 

“Yeah, I’m not leaving you whilst you’re vulnerable and healing.” Her features soften fully for the first time as she takes in your words. The look unerves you in its intimacy. “I wouldn’t want my efforts to be in vain.”

“Of course,” she easily agrees but the look doesn’t change. 

The next time you pick up the dagger you give her a strip of leather cut from your belt to bite on and you’re able to close both the wound on her ribs and hip before the metal loses its heat. “Just one more,” you tell her as you wrap her wounds as you did the first. 

You’ve been so busy assessing the damage to her skin that only when you reach forward to wrap the cloth around her middle do you fully realize her nakedness. You flush again at the unmistakable knowledge that you enjoy the vision of her unmarred form. Both toned with strength you can only dream of owning and possessing curves so very soft and feminine. She’s beautiful. 

Your arm shifts as it reaches for the bandage to tie off and it brushes the underside of her left breast. She takes in a sharp breath and you pull your hand away as if burnt. “Sorry,” you whisper. Shaky fingers are quick to tie off the bandage so it does not shift.

Her eyes find yours, they dart over your features coming to rest on your lips. “It’s okay.” 

You need a distraction from her gaze so fixated on you because you realize the attention is achingly wanted on your part. The cut at her jaw has been missed with your previous ministrations so you lift a damp rag up to wipe at the area. The gentle touch causes Yang’s eyes to flutter closed and her bottom lip is quick to be trapped between her pearly teeth, but you can hear the noise in the back of Yang’s throat that the action was supposed to suppress.

“Why was the village after you if you didn’t attack first?”

The question does exactly what you intend. It snaps both of you to the present once again. You aren’t sure if it’s safe to explore the new feelings she brings out in you, but you do know now is not the time to fall ensnared to them. 

She clears her throat and winces in pain at the action. You hand her the canteen and she takes a few tentative sips to placate her dry throat. “Because people fear what they don’t know and dragon’s are one of the most unknown creatures on this earth.”

“Being scared of what you do not understand is the most idiotic of fears.” Again you can’t help but feel humanity is doomed to repeat this stupidity over and over.

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

“You’re defending them?”

“No,” she leans her head into the stone contemplating her next words. “I would never defend killing something just because you don’t understand it. But I do get how someone can fear what they do not know.”

“You’re literally a dragon. What could possibly scare you?”

Yang hums deep in her throat, a softened rumble of her previous roars. “You, actually.”

“I sliced your leg, I don’t blame you for your fear of me finding your hiding spot.”

“Those are all things I know to fear. I thought we were talking about the unknown?” The metal is ready for the last seal but you want to hear her full answer; her riddled last sentence drawing your attention. “In the market…” she smiles. “I won’t deny my initial attraction to you.” Her smile fades into something of a saddened wistfulness. “It’s odd because I don’t find myself drawn to many, and so rarely to someone not of my kind. It surprised me. I couldn’t not get a closer look, and, even if it was stupid on my part, I don’t regret it. Your image stayed with me long into my journey. I drifted close to a few settlements I know better to avoid as I daydreamed of your face.” 

She turns bashful, dipping her chin and playing with a frayed end of one bandage at her side. You remember the farmer and his daughters, pointing the way. Had you not been on her mind would she have remained unseen? Would she have stayed safe from the men you’d traveled with? Would she have stayed safe from you?

“You were something so unlike what I’m used to. A stranger that caught my attention and forced me to risk everything. I’d stayed in the village too long, almost not making it out before the light of day changed me. And all I could think of was how and when I could see you again. But I didn’t know the first thing about you, not even your name. You were my unknown, and the things you made me, or make me feel are all so terrifying. Because of who you are, what I am and what those things could mean.”

Her voice fades and you don’t know how to respond. Instead you grab the dagger and close the final wound on her shoulder. She spits the leather out as soon as the metal is removed and your hands are quick to wrap the area for protection. Her shallow breaths and quiet whimpers break your heart. You may be unable to articulate as boldly as she but you do remember the pull you felt in the village as she ran out of sight, the way her touch lingered on your wrist, the way not long ago you’d wanted her to continue exploring whatever that look she was giving you meant. 

“Can you stand?” You ask once you’re finished.

She groans, leaning all her weight into the rocky wall. “I just need to sleep for a bit.” 

Knowing the other two men are on their way you cannot risk them recognizing her injuries as you have. “You can’t.” Your tone is apologetic. “I set a signal fire not far away, we need to get you as far from here as we can. The others will probably be here in the morning.

The look she sends you can only be named as disappointed, both at not getting rest and maybe because you’ve betrayed her and her hiding spot. She stands, with your help and you guide her limbs into a worn pair of your clothes.

JT bows when you command him, tapping at the back of his front leg. It makes it easy for you to help Yang into the saddle. “Is it pulling at your wound?” You ask, indicating the one on her leg more than any of the rest. 

“A little but I will live.”

Dousing the fire and picking up your weapon, you lead JT out of the cave and into the night air. It’s refreshing after the stench of burning flesh that’s attacked you for the past hour. You have no destination in mind, just knowing the direction that brought you here. You turn back to the north, hoping the change in direction will throw the two men off. 

“There’s another place I go sometimes. I haven’t been there in a long time. If you keep going north we should arrive by morning.” She points to a clump of stars above and you turn JT to follow their path. 

“You’re my unknown too.” If it weren’t for the deep hum in her throat you would think your voice too low for her to hear.

“Do I scare you?” she asks after a half-hour of silence.

“In some ways.” you look at her half hunched form perched atop JT. Even drained of colour she’s beautiful, and it does terrify you how drawn to her you are. “But I trust you not to eat me.”

She laughs softly as it’s all the strength she has left. “We will have to see.”

“Yes, we will.” You smile at her mirth and turn back to the trail.

Wolf cries are heard in the distance and your ears pick up the scuffle of forest critters darting to safety at the sound. If only they knew what deadliness the woman’s form accompanying you truly held, they wouldn’t be hiding from a mere wolf. 

A crunching noise from behind makes you jump but turning you see Yang leaning forward in the saddle. JT’s neck is bent at a sharp angle as he takes a bite from the apple she holds out for him. Her eyes meet yours. “You said it was for after, right?”

“I did, but the job isn’t really completed.”

“You’re still planning on finishing me off?” 

“Perhaps.” Your voices hold a quiet familiarity. There aren’t any threats within the words you speak and the steady thrum of her heartbeat proves she’s not scared of you continuing your hunt. “I tire of company easily.” Your shoulders lift in a half-hearted shrug.

_ “We’ll just have to convince her to let me stay then.” _ Your ears pin to your scalp, straining to make out her words and when you look over your shoulder she’s scratching JT between his ears as he takes another bite of the apple you’d purchased for him. It’s obvious the words were not meant for you to hear as she conspires with your only friend.

“Are you trying to win over my horse?”

She opens her mouth to respond but a yawn takes over so she nods her head as answer instead.

“If you want to doze you can. JT won’t let you fall.”

She goes silent and you hear the way JT’s hooves step more carefully on the path behind you. She’s still such a mystery and there’s so many more questions you have for her. You want to know her: her life, where she came from, if she has family out there somewhere, how her forms change and of her race’s history. You want to know what makes her who and what she is because you want to understand what makes her so special that your instincts unwillingly led you down this converging path with hers. You're scared of her, not in a physical sense but in the way she has the ability to turn your life upside down. You aren't supposed to have relationships, friendly or otherwise, that's your own rule. For some unfathomable reason you feel she’s the only one able to see the real you and the reality of that puts you in a position of being vulnerable.

She is your unknown. 

But you might just be willing to risk getting hurt, for her.

  
  
  



End file.
